


Compersion

by OneEyedDestroyer



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Compersion, Fluff, Multi, Polyamory, WAFF, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneEyedDestroyer/pseuds/OneEyedDestroyer
Summary: Quentin, Eliot, and Margo reconnect after a weekend away with their other partners.Soft kitchen table polyamory for the “Halloween at the Library” gift exchange.





	Compersion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Estel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estel/gifts).



> For estelofimladris for The Neitherland’s Library Trick or Treat exchange. 
> 
> Prompt: Quentin and Polyamory
> 
> I decided to try to play it a bit safe and write some fluff. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> I’m a Sucker™️ for soft polyamory full of compersion where everyone gets along with all their metamours, so I figured this would be a great opportunity to write some of that for my favorite queer assholes. 
> 
> Technically set in the future of an alternate universe where nothing bad happens. ;) 
> 
> Thanks to [ **Rae** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/highestkingbambi) for continuing to be an amazing beta. I couldn’t do it without you.

Candlelight flickers throughout the room. The fervent heat of lovers still clings to walls. A spent Eliot lies, glistening, on a plush bed of ornate pillows and silk sheets. His lover rises from the mess they made of the bed, reluctantly redressing.

 

“You are a menace.” Deep satisfaction accentuates the low rumble of Idri’s voice; his amused laughter brings a proud smile to Eliot’s face. 

 

Eliot rises from the bed, grabbing Idri’s coat, and makes his way behind him. “And you loved every second of it,” he says into Idri’s ear as he slides the heavy fur onto his broad shoulders. Idri slips his arms into the coat as Eliot takes his ear between his teeth. 

 

A gentle knock at the door means Quentin is home from his date for the weekend; they smile. “I would say I hope you’re both wearing pants, but. . .” he trails off with a laugh, letting the innuendo hang between them. Quentin can hear Eliot’s laughter on the other side of the door. 

 

The heavy door swings open and Quentin is greeted by Idri grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hug. “Good to see you,” he says. Quentin can’t help but notice how brilliant his smile is. “I tried to get him warmed up for you, but I think I wore him out.” His hearty laugh runs down Quentin’s spine, straight to his cock. Idri’s laughter is so contagious Quentin can’t help but join him. It’s clear why Eliot is so enamored with him. While Quentin’s laughter is significantly higher than Idri’s, it is no less full of appreciation. He is filled with warmth and pride at seeing one of his loves made happy by a lover that he, himself, is lucky enough to call a friend. 

 

“I’ll live,” he says, clapping a hand on Idri’s shoulder. “ He probably deserved it . ” He shoots Eliot a naughty look that is met with a proud smirk. 

 

Idri leans in close, as if to whisper, but his words are spoken deliberately and loud enough to ensure that Eliot will hear, “I promise, one day I’ll be gentle.”  The words ring from deep within Idri’s chest with a texture that has Quentin half-regretting that he didn’t stay to join them.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Eliot calls out from the bed, still half dressed, satisfaction plastered on his face. 

 

“Next week?” Idri turns to face Eliot, commanding and regal as he awaits his response. 

 

Eliot sits up onto his elbows with an equal air of royalty, “Wouldn’t miss it.” Quentin tucks his hair behind his ear, suddenly aware that he has yet to master that grace. 

 

Idri steps through the door, shutting it behind him. As Quentin kicks his shoes off, Eliot lights up with a roguish smile. Quentin can’t help but start to blush, as if he isn’t greeted with that smile every single morning. “Looks like you had a good weekend,” he says, climbing into bed and settling next to Eliot. 

 

Once they’re face to face, Eliot brings his lips to Quentin’s in a soft kiss. “I did,” he says, leaning over to grab a cigarette. “We barely left the room,” he brings the cigarette to his lips. He snaps his fingers to ignite the end, taking a deep breath before exhaling smoke.

 

“Where’s Margo?”

 

“Haven’t seen her yet,” Eliot says casually. “Maybe Todd—”

 

As if their speculation summoned her, Margo appears in the bed chamber. Wrapped in Penny’s arms, she laughs as his teeth explore her neck. She pulls away from his grasp and surveys the scene before her. Quentin and Eliot are sitting in the bed staring at her in confusion. “Cough it up,” she says to Penny, holding her hand out expectantly. He rolls his eyes and reaches into the pocket of his duster. Withdrawing his hand, he reveals a strange talisman carved into a stone so dark that the red speckles are nearly indistinguishable from the forest green. 

 

Margo quickly snatches the talisman from Penny and slips it into her bra for safe keeping. “What can I say? I know my boys,” she says with an arrogant smirk. 

 

Penny shoots her a glare, but his tongue sliding over his bottom lip betrays his arousal. “Catch you later,” he says before disappearing from the room.

 

Eliot cocks a dramatic eyebrow and throws his hands up in mock-defeat. “What the fuck did I just witness?” he asks, taking another drag. He’s more amused than anything, but he can’t help but turn up the theatrics. 

 

“Yeah, what happened to Todd?” Quentin chimes in, bewildered. “I thought you and Marina were going to, quote, ‘seriously wreck his shit’.” 

 

“Oh we did,” she says with a throaty laugh as she plops onto the bed between them. “I ran into Penny on my way out.” She settles on her back, draping a leg over Eliot and sliding one of Quentin’s hands to rest on her stomach. “Stopped for a quickie before travelling back,” she sighs wistfully remembering the feeling of his teeth, his hands, his cock. 

 

“And what the fuck is this?” Eliot asks, placing the cigarette between his lips and plucking the talisman from her cleavage. 

 

Margo grasps for the talisman but Eliot snatches it out of her reach. She grabs the cigarette from Eliot’s lips and takes a quick drag before replacing it. Eliot rolls his eyes as he wraps his lips back around the cigarette. “We made a bet,” she smirks, exhaling smoke. “Penny was convinced you two would be fucking by the time we got back,” her eyes narrow as she watches Eliot dangle the talisman over her face. 

 

“What did you mean by ‘I know my boys’?” Quentin is trying not to be self conscious, but his free hand is running nervously through his hair, failing to tuck it in place. 

 

“Relax,” Margo says, leaning up to place a kiss on the first place she can reach, his shoulder. “It was an easy bet,” she says. “You guys like to  _ catch up  _ before heading to pound town after time apart,” her tone playfully mocks the intimacy between them as if she isn’t doing the exact same thing. Eliot’s brow furrows. While he’s distracted, she snatches the swinging talisman out of his grasp. 

 

Quentin laughs at their childlike exchange, and grabs the talisman from Margo, setting it on the side table before cuddling his way between them. He sighs with a deep contentment. This might be his favorite part; he gets to create his own little worlds with each of his partners. Every bond has its own rich color that is enhanced by the addition of the other connections. The freedom to love with multiplicity has given him such a deep appreciation for every person and that comes into his life. 

 

The sound of Margo’s voice pulls Quentin from his thoughts. “So, how’d it go with what’s her name?” she asks, her eyes are lit with curiosity as she anticipates the details. 

 

“Farrah?” Eliot asks taking a drag of his cigarette. Quentin sighs. They never were very good with names. 

 

“Phaedra,” Quentin corrects. “Great actually!” 

 

“No!”

 

“You’re kidding!” 

 

Eliot and Margo respond simultaneously, rising slightly from their cozy spots on the bed in shock and excitement. 

 

“Couldn’t have been too great, though. You’re not glowing with that dopey grin you get after a good fuck,” Margo says with a satisfied smirk. She can’t help but tease, she loves the way his face burns red when she gets a good rise out of him. They’ve been together for years and Quentin still blushes at her teasing. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to it. Sometimes he finds it hard to believe that they welcomed him into their world. He is truly lucky.  

 

Eliot settles back into the bed, he taps his chest lightly for Quentin to join him. “Hey, if anyone can have a good date without sex, it’s Q,” he says on the heels of a drag. Quentin can’t help but love the way smoke escapes his lips as he speaks. He knows it isn’t good for him, but it’s so goddamn sexy. Smiling, he lies back down between them, resting his head on Eliot’s shoulder. Once he’s settled he turns his head to shoot Margo a smug look.

 

Margo rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at her lips. She’s so endeared to the way Quentin grows a backbone once he has Eliot behind him. “He knows I’m fucking with him,” Margo says as she slides her body closer to Quentin’s. “Now give us the not so dirty details.” 

 

“Is there going to be a second date?”

 

“When can we meet her?” 

 

“Does she like orgies?!”

 

“Guys, calm down,” he says, laughing. Eliot and Margo always get ahead of themselves, especially when they’re excited—which is often when it comes to him. “We’re taking it slow.” 

 

Eliot and Margo try hard to suppress snickers and looks of incredulity. Quentin isn’t exactly known for being slow and discerning in his sex life. 

 

“I mean it,” he says, trying to put a little bass in his voice. Eliot and Margo share a quick glance, clearly making their own decisions about how this is going to go before nodding. 

 

“Did she enjoy the picnic we made for you?” Eliot asks, trying to redirect the conversation. He’s finished his cigarette, so he extinguishes it in his ashtray.

 

Quentin’s eyes soften with appreciation, “Of course she did, El. Your cooking is amazing.” A wide smile spreads across his face. Quentin wanted to make a picnic lunch for his date with Phaedra, but he can’t cook his way out of a paper bag. Without hesitation, Eliot grabbed Margo, stepped into the kitchen, and made a brilliant lunch for him to take on his date. He doesn’t know what he would do without them. 

  
  


“I can’t believe everything worked out so well,” Eliot says, voice full of awe. Quentin nods in agreement. All three of them are honestly shocked that it went so smoothly. “Abigail the matchmaker. Who would’ve thought?” They share a genuine laugh, their  heaving chests and shaking shoulders pull them closer together.  Of all the counsel, Abigail is by fair the most terrifying. No one ever believes that she spends some of her free time trying to help poor idiots find love. 

 

Somewhere over the course of talking about Quentin’s date, Margo’s fingers wandered into his hair. “I was banking on you coming back with a wild story and internal bleeding,” she adds playfully as she finishes off a small braid. Quentin’s eyes widen in shock at her words. He can’t believe they let him go out on a date they thought could risk his safety. “Oh calm down,” she snarks. “Did you die?” 

 

Quentin opens his mouth to object, but she’s right. Nothing bad happened; it was honestly an amazing date. “You’re welcome,” Eliot adds, further patronizing him. 

 

“You guys are the worst,” Quentin says, rolling his eyes. 

 

“You love us,” Eliot and Margo speak in an unintentional unison that has become so common of them. 

 

Quentin smiles, cuddling into Eliot and pulling Margo’s arm around him. “I really do.”  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Low key: if you want any of the smut surrounding this, please let me know in the comments. I kinda want to write all of it.


End file.
